I sat, looking at the computer, trying to flip back and forth between the website for the brothel I was looking at and my facebook tab, trying to compare pictures to decide if I thought this was really the same girl.
I think it is. Mind, uh, blown, I guess I'd say?
I stood, and walked around my living room, trying to decide what to do with this information. Part of me can't even believe I'm considering this, but, on the other hand, here I am, looking at a girl on a brothel's website.
I cast my mind back, remembering... A few years ago the government had passed a referendum allowing for prostitution in select circumstances. It was all safe now, all the girls are STD tested weekly, and the guys are required to show a negative test as well. The brothels are licensed and, while the girls are not required to have a license, the brothel is required to give them some training in safe sex techniques to help avoid issues. Condoms are optional, depending on the girl you are working with. All-in-all, it actually seemed like a pretty good set up.
Back when the referendum passed I was still with my now-ex girlfriend. Didn't really pay much attention to it but I do vaguely remember there being some opposition to what was being proposed. Turned out not to matter in the end, I suppose. But times change -- clearly, I think bitterly, remembering finding out my ex had cheated on me. When the referendum went through I didn't really say much about it one way or the other but I never really did see myself taking advantage of it.
Oh, how times change.
My ex cheated on me about six months ago, and it took me a week or two to decide after I found out that I wasn't gonna be able to move on with that knowledge, and had appropriately informed her. I've had a few flings since then, but it's so hit or miss, trying to pick up women at the bar or using the various dating apps that are out there. I guess I kinda just wanted to have some fun with a woman I wouldn't remember in a few weeks, which was led me to remembering about the new laws that had been passed.
I sat back down at the computer and began working through the paperwork. I had actually been tested for STDs after my last fling, I figured it was probably a good idea at the time anyway since I had been with three or four women since my ex and I split. Negative, across the board, and I submitted the paperwork via the little dropbox they gave me.
The website asked me which of the girls I would be interested in, or if I had no preference. I had to look back at the list again because Caprice was using some sort of stage name, and I couldn't remember what it was.
"Rose," I muttered to myself, finding the page again and selecting the appropriate box on the application. I filled out the rest of it; it was actually all pretty simple. Just basic contact and biographical information, and I sped through it, making sure it submitted successfully.
Finishing the application, I sat back in my chair and let this whole thing wash over me again. I think I had already mentioned, I had tried the bar scene and all of that. And it worked, sometimes, but it was such a crap shoot, too. I've had nights where I've spent a bunch of money on a date and drinks and all of that and nothing ended up happening. Not their fault, sometimes the chemistry just isn't there and I'm not the type to force something to happen where there isn't a mutual interest.
Ath the end of it, though, I decided it would be a better use of my time and money just to get directly down to business. Maybe at some point a little later on I might try again, especially if I wanted to get a new actual girlfriend. But I wasn't there, yet, I still haven't quite processed the whole end of my relationship, quite yet.
"But a guy has needs," I thought to myself, smiling a little. I began thinking back to Caprice in high school. I knew back then she was originally from California (Orange County, actually!), and I also remember she was probably one of the hottest women in my school. We were friends but not particularly close, mostly because our last names were almost sequential so we ended up sitting right behind each other, her in front with me behind her.
We were both kinda loners, albeit for slightly different reasons. Her dad was military and they had moved around a lot as she grew up, and as a result she tended to only have a few close friends. I didn't make that particular list but because of our proximity in class, we ended up studying together quite a bit.
I was always the academic, acing most of my classes while sleeping through the actual lessons themselves. But when Caprice needed help understanding a concept she would inevitably wake me up and pester me until she understood it. I always tried to be friendly with her, and I do think she saw me as a friend at least. But I was in foster care, in a suburban school district and originally from the inner city. Most of the kids in my school struck me as pretentious and snobby, and I shunned most of them because they were about as shallow as a kiddie pool, with few redeeming qualities (in my eyes).
But I never really put Caprice in that group. I thought she was hot, of course, and yeah that made me want to get to know her but even though she was from Cali, she had never given me the kind of pretentious air that most of the other kids had.
I was just smirking about having blown off my high school graduation when I was interrupted from my reverie -- my phone was ringing. Surprised, I looked at the caller id and it came back as "The Bunny Brothel," the same company I had just applied to. I answered the call.
"Hello, I'm looking to speak with Mr. King, if he's available."
"You got him. I wasn't expecting you guys to reach back out so fast," I say with a nervous laugh.
The lady on the end of the phone laughed with me, "It's okay, we want all of our clients to have a great experience with us and that starts with getting you on the books as soon as possible."
"I appreciate that," I said, before letting her continue with her spiel. She ran through all my paperwork to make sure everything was in order, before pausing.
"I see you've selected Rose as the girl you'd like to meet with," she said, not betraying anything in her voice.
"Yes," I said, "Is that a problem?" I ask, curious.
"No, it's just that I see you've never booked with us before," she answered. "Do you mind if I ask why you decided to request Rose? She's also pretty new with us, as well."